


It's a Living

by Kittycattycat



Category: Little Shop of Horrors - All Media Types
Genre: Audrey is a POC y'all cowards, Better Orin AU, F/M, Fluff, Gen, I just need these guys to have good relationships together, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Orin goes to anger management, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Seymour is a trans man, They're all here man, This sounds like it's all focused on Orin but tbh i love all of these kids so much, not super sure how to tag but yanno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittycattycat/pseuds/Kittycattycat
Summary: A bunch of semi-linear oneshots from an AU where Orin is still a sadistic dentist but isn't abusive and is generally a slightly better person. (He's also very bi and might have a crush on Seymour, but hey, don't we all?)((Edit: Did some fixing up of the content on 2/17/19, making it better for you guys read and a little less embarrassing for me to look at. Honestly? I have no idea where I'm going with this story, but I may end up updating again sometime in the near future. Cheers!))





	1. Chapter 1

It's just a tick or two before six-thirty when Audrey struts into Orin’s office, blonde hair still curled neatly at the sides of her cheeks just as it had been that morning when he’d dropped her off. Normally he would've gone to pick her up at the shop by now, but he'd had to stay after to talk to his secretary about something or another— he actually didn't give two shits, and the secretary most certainly figured that out while she droned on about the same old business crap he'd heard ten thousand times before (and hadn't listened to then, either.) Even still, he was obliged to stay, and so Audrey decided she could walk down to his workplace (risky move, these streets were NOT safe) so he could drive them both back to his apartment afterwards.

As Orin pulls his jacket into its proper place over his shoulders, Audrey brings her hands together with a small clap and beams up at him (she was so short compared to him, despite the fact that she was wearing heels; even he had to admit it the size difference was a little adorable.) “How was work?”

“It's been pretty alright,” he says, because he’s long since figured out that ‘It was great! During my lunch break I jerked it in the bathroom to the memory of a really hot patient crying in my office chair!’ wasn't an acceptable response to such a question, “got a good bit o’ work done, more than a few appointments with snot-nosed kids though. How was yours? Yer boss get onto ya anymore today?”

Audrey fidgets slightly, rocking back and forth on her heels but still smiling, and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Mr. Mushnik really ain't too bad! He told me I better get to work on time from now on, though.”

Orin huffs, “He's just a hardass.” 

“He's nicer once you get to know him!” she insists, “Plus, I have been gettin’ to work awfully late every morning…”

Instinctively, a sneer nearly comes over his face, but he stops it at last second. Still, one of his fists balls up at his side. He makes sure to hide it behind his back, though, so Audrey won't see it and be upset by him or worry about him. He wants to be mad as fuck— he is, very much so, both at Mr. Mushnik and also at Audrey for saying shit like that when HE’S the one who drops her off every morning. Is she tryna imply that it's HIS fault she's so late every morning? If the stupid bitch would just get ready earlier, walk faster, she would never—

God, fuck, therapy session stuff, therapy session stuff, think of therapy session stuff. It's not Audrey’s fault. He just doesn't get up very well. It's on him, and she's not being hurtful and she doesn't mean anything by it. Audrey is lovely and kind and she would never and Orin loves the fuck out of her. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in…

Audrey’s eyebrows are drawn together, and she almost looks like she's trying to make herself appear as small as possible in front of him. It makes him nervous. She knows he wouldn't hit her, right? He's apologized again and again. He won't do it, not anymore, but he can't fix the damage that's already been done. “Orin? Are you okay? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No!” he blurts, and Audrey nearly jolts. “Sorry, I'm— I'm sorry.” He unclenches his fists and consciously relaxing his facial muscles, “I zoned out for a sec. You sayin’ somethin’, doll?”

Almost immediately she bounces back, beaming at him brightly, though her hesitance is still there in the vaguest of ways, “I— yeah! Seymour was just tellin’ me about this really nice new plant he got from his normal seller. You know, the Asian man who sometimes wanders in front of you store?” He nods, even though after he ran the guy off last time he came ‘round Orin’s pretty sure he ain't comin’ back, “Well, he sold Seymour such a beautiful type of flower— oh, it's gorgeous, Or! Its got these bright blue petals that curl at the ends! It's called a… a… well, I don't really remember exactly, you know how I am with stuff like that, but it's awfully lovely! You should come down and see it, you really should! I'm sure Seymour’d love to tell you all about it!”

Now, truth be told, Orin could not give LESS of a shit about that stupid-ass new flower. But hey, whatever makes his girlfriend happy, eh? Plus, Seymour isn't too bad a guy, even if he does have his awkwardly obvious crush on Audrey deal goin’ on. He’s still nice, decent enough to talk to. Needs to learn how to fuckin’ dress himself though. Kinda looks like a chump in his sweater vest and slacks, but hey, he's tryin’.

“Aight babe, I'm game. Let's head down there.”

Her smile seems to light up the dim room, and he feels his heart flutter as her hand grabs his.


	2. Chapter 2

The bell over the doors chimes every time someone walks into Mushnik’s Skid Row Florists, and Orin is no exception to that. The small sound alerts just about everyone in the pin-drop silent store, so there’s really no need for him to call out to Audrey. Besides, she knows by now that he always comes around the same time every day. He figures she's probably just in the back foolin with some new flower pots or stacking the bags of potting soil Seymour couldn't lift; she always was so strong, and Orin couldn't help but admire that. Seymour probably did, too, considering how much it apparently helped him at times. Speaking of the kid… there he was. Just standing behind the counter, quiet as a mouse (looking a little but like a mouse, too, though not necessarily in a bad way.) He didn't make eye contact with Orin no matter how much the man tried to look at him, seeming content to feign interest in the cash register and the countertop and whatever other junk was scattered around the general area he stood in.

“Comin’!” a muffled voice says from the back room. There she is. (Orin has to stifle a laugh at how Seymour seems to almost trip over himself trying to look casual when she hasn’t even stepped in the room yet. Absolutely adorable.)

Audrey scampers out towards himself and the door, smoothing out some small wrinkles in her favorite leopard-print dress. Orin was no fashion expert, but he sure did like the way it showed off all her curves, and how the spots on the garment complimented the dark complexion of her skin. She looked gorgeous in it, and he loved to see how happy she got on the rare occasions someone approached her to give a compliment on it. 

“Hey baby,” he purrs into her neck as he pulls her in a bit closer to him.

Audrey looks up at him with a twinkle in her eyes and a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth and creating little dimples. Orin wants to lean down and peck her cheek— and so he does, because god, she really is just too pretty to resist. He murmurs as such into her ear and she giggles lightly, a faint dust of pinkish red falling over her cheeks as she interlocks her arm with his. Across the room, Seymour is alternating between politely averting his eyes from their blatantly obvious public display of affection (he's sure Audrey’s boss definitely would've gotten onto them for that had he been around) and looking at the two of them together with some sort of longing. Orin’s heart doesn't quite skip a beat or pound out of his chest dramatically or anything, but there's a certain feeling that wraps itself around his guts. In a way, it's unfamiliar, but also very, very familiar. He decides to not think anything of it and simply just shove it away into a far corner of his brain; that's what he’s always done with things he doesn't understand, and why change up an old tradition, yanno?

“Where we goin’ tonight, doctor?” she asks teasingly. He’d told her she didn't have to call him that at all a long time ago, and for the most part she didn't. Some nights, though, she'd pull out the name just to see him get flustered by it. He was a little ashamed to admit that it almost always worked.

“Movie theatre, the one uptown. They got a good deal on that one movie you wanted to see, uhh, Streetcar?”

She gasps happily, “‘A Streetcar Named Desire’?! Oh, Orin, I didn't ever think I'd have time to see it! It was only available during my work hours up at the downtown theatre, and I can't really afford a ticket the one uptown on my own…”

“Yeah, well, I can.”

Audrey hugs him tight around his waist, and he briefly returns the gesture and rests his chin on her head before pulling back. Physical contact like that still leaves a sour taste in his mouth sometimes, no matter how pure the intentions. But he wants to do it, wants to get better at it. For her.

They're getting ready to head out when Audrey’s eyes widen, “Seymour!” she calls back to the boy, startling him enough that he jumps slightly. Her lisp on the ‘S’ in Seymour’s name is nearly enough to make Orin cringe; he'd chipped her tooth once when he got too rough hitting her and she'd had the small speech impediment ever since. Cute as hell? Obviously. But also a reminder of how he'd been before, how utterly horrible he was to her? Definitely. Not great. Best to stop thinking about it before his self-loathing kicks in again and ruins the night for everyone.

“Yes, Audrey?” Seymour responds, fiddling with the helm of his sweater vest.

“I almost forgot! You wanted to see ‘A Streetcar’ too, didn't you?!”

A small flush overtakes Seymour’s face as Orin’s eyebrow cocks up. Nothin’ wrong with a dude wanting to see a romance movie, but Seymour just really didn't seem like the type if was honest. Well, maybe he did. Just a little. 

“Oh, I… I did. I mean, it sounded interesting I guess. I don't see movies much though…”

Audrey’s back is completely turned to Orin now, but he can envision her ear-splitting smile as she speaks. “Come see it with us, won't you? Orin won't mind!”

He feels a twinge of irritation at the assumption, but honestly? She's right. Seymour wouldn't bother him at all, and he knows he's got enough money in his pocket to pay for three tickets instead of two. One of the many perks of working in the dental profession, he supposes.

“Sure,” Orin shrugs, “fuck, let him bring a plant if he wants. Makes no difference to me.”

All eyes are on Seymour, and he's looking off to the side in turn, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Well, ah, if you're completely sure that it's alright. I don't want to intrude or anything.”

Audrey runs to Seymour, heels clicking against the floor, and swoops him into a hug. His jaw drops slightly and he lets out a few awkward chuckles as she squeezes him. Strangely, Orin finds that he's a lot more attractive when he smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

So it's after the movie, and Seymour is sitting on a couch. It's Orin’s couch. He's in Orin’s apartment. Yup. It's… actually a lot nicer than he had assumed it would be? (He tries not to think about the fact that he could turn a corner and find handcuffs lying inconspicuously on top of a dresser.) Though, he supposes that the sleeping Audrey half-laying across his lap isn't hindering his enjoyment of the experience as a whole, even if he IS a little embarrassed by it. He says ‘half-laying,’ because the other half of her is sprawled across Orin’s lap. He imagines that they both feel equally as content and also trapped as some romantic comedy Audrey likes plays on Orin’s television.

Also, Orin? Wow. In a way, it was almost kind of amazing to see Orin transform once they all arrived home and he got into a comfortable position on the couch. He seems so relaxed now, with one arm draped gently over the sleeping Audrey’s shoulders and a soft gleam in his eyes. Seymour can almost feel his typical mental image of the man as an agitated, frustrated, sadistic dentist melt away to nothing. Knowing there was something of a better personality behind his on-the-job self-persona all this time was probably a lot more relieving than it really should've been. 

“Hey,” Orin says without warning, and Seymour jolts because oh wow Orin’s looking straight at him now and oh WOW he's actually kinda cute when he's so happy and content like this, “you… I mean, look. You're crushin’ on Audrey, right?”

Now, Seymour has never been a confident man, nor has he ever been a man with a particular skill in social situations. He's much more passive when it comes to most things, preferring others to take the lead when his opinion does not overwhelm their own. But as soon as the question popped out, it was unavoidable, and he knew it. No getting around it. 

To Seymour, it feels like he’s about to hyperventilate here on Orin’s couch.

“I-I…” he says between sporadic breaths, and oh boy golly is it suddenly hot in here or is it just his crippling social anxieties getting the best of him again? The words tumble from his mouth like a rapid waterfall, “I… please, I won't do anything! It's fine! I'm not trying to do anything, honest! I swear it!”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Orin says with a few waves of his hands, lowering his voice when Audrey vaguely shifts against him and lets out a small murmur about something or another, “It's okay, Krelborn! I ain't your damn schoolteacher or your mom, you're not in trouble or nothin’. I just wanted to like, I dunno, get it out there? Just…I know. I know about it, and I wanna make sure you know that I know, because otherwise it's gonna get uncomfortable or something and honestly this was a really bad fuckin’ plan because now YOU’RE super uncomfortable and I'm real fuckin’ sorry.”

The words momentarily make Seymour’s head spin— he's never been a fast word processor, and the speed at which Orin spat the run-on at him wasn't doing anything in assistance. But once his brain fully took in the sentences, he almost felt more disoriented than he had before, “You aren't… you're not, mad?”

Orin’s eyebrows shot up, “What? Nah. I mean…” his eyes flicker down to Audrey, and then over to the wall behind Seymour. He knows there's nothing there to look at— is Orin nervous? “…She's really somethin’, ain't she? And you're a good guy. I think you two’d actually be real cute together.”

Seymour blinks at him, and Orin looks back down at Audrey. He doesn't look back up this time, just stares down with a blank but tender expression. ‘Are you gonna break up with her?’ is the question right on the tip of Seymour’s tongue that’s about to bounce off like it's the end of a diving board. But he holds himself back. Orin’s not mad, but there's really no need to get exercise from pushing his luck all the time. Plus, it kinda just seems like a rude thing to ask anyhow? And by golly, Seymour was raised better than to be rude.

“I talked about it to ‘er.”

The blood drains from Seymour’s cheeks, his complexion going from flushed to white more quickly than he would've liked, “What?”

“About you guys gettin’ together. Because I mean… she likes you too, Krelborn. It's pretty obvious.”

“She's dating you.”

He shrugs and moves the arm across Audrey’s shoulders over to the side of her face, tucking away a few stray strands of hair about to get stuck in her lip gloss, “So?”

“Y-You can't do that!”

“Says who?” he grins; it's a crooked and wide grin and normally that'd normally be more than a bit intimidating, but the way Orin's talking and acting makes it almost seem a bit comically dorky, “There's no law sayin’ you can only date one person. And even if there was, screw it! Date who you like!”

Seymour’s eyebrows draw together hard. “You really think you'd be okay with that? …You really think SHE’D be okay with that?” he all but whispers to the other across the couch.

Another shrug, but the grin stays put, “I proposed the whole thing, didn't I? And if you don't take my word for it, ask her yourself if it's okay! I know she'd be fine with it— ‘specially since she'd get to date somebody cute like you.”

Orin winks, and even though it's almost certainly meant to be a joke, Seymour’s nearly chokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love these kids--- (also, is it too easy to tell that I wrote most all of this chapter in about twenty minutes? Not very impressive honestly, but hmm)


	4. Chapter 4

Audrey tries not to ask about the bandages on his fingers.

She knows Seymour, she knows him better than almost anybody else, and whether he knows it or not she has always, ALWAYS considered him to be her closest friend. Through Orin’s abusive stage, and her time as a sex worker, AND when money was tight and she was frequently eating food from the trash before Orin caught her and helped her out, Seymour was always there to listen and comfort her. It's part of why she's so worried about the fact that when he comes in to work every morning he seems to have one or two more bandages than the previous day. Sometimes she'll catch him with small beads of blood dripping down his fingertips that he says he ‘didn't even notice were there.’ It worries her, and it scares her, and she's trying to refrain from mentioning it to Orin because she knows he can be a little more brash than maybe he should be. But good god, if anyone can find out what Seymour is going through besides her, it'd certainly have to be him.

It's crossed her mind that all the attention Seymour’s been getting from the Audrey II might be getting to him a little bit. As wonderful and amazing as the Audrey II is, and as much business as it brings to their tiny little Skid Row floral shop, and how much well-deserved praise and recognition it's fame gives Seymour, she imagines that it comes with a hefty load of stress for her friend. She can imagine that suddenly getting swarmed by reporters and television celebrities after being used to silence and being by yourself would be enough to really mess with someone’s head. Audrey tries her best to act as normal as possible around him— he needs a place, she thinks, to feel at home and comfortable and safe— but the outside world is still the outside. She can't control the people out there no matter how much she wishes she sometimes could. She can't help Seymour with this. It's a problem out of her control, and she can't stand problems like that.

And so she's found herself sitting in Orin’s apartment and worrying, worrying, worrying.

“Orin,” she starts, before taking a sip of water from her plastic cup because gosh is her throat dry. She tries again, and he's looking at her now. “Orin, you think Seymour is okay?”

“… Whadya mean?”

“He has all these bandages on his fingers now, yanno? Have you noticed that?”

He shrugs to act nonchalant, but she knows he's seen them because she's caught him staring at the wounds. Orin cares more about Seymour and his safety and happiness than he'd ever admit (it's the reason she originally was the one who had to bring up the proposal of asking him out to begin with. It's more than likely GOING to be the reason she has to be the one to get them together with each other.) “I mean, I've seen ‘em ‘n’ all, I just figured he hurt himself workin’ or somethin’. Not my business to ask, yanno?”

Audrey nods, “Yeah, but I mean… he's clumsy, sure, but he almost never hurts himself at the shop.”

Orin is looking at her now with a distinctly concerned frown, “You think he's doin’ it himself?”

“… I dunno. I hope not. And Seymour really don't seem the type, but… I guess I can't be sure.”

Silence lingers in the room, except for the constant and familiar slow ticking of the small old wooden clock she has sitting on a table. She wishes life would always go at a pace like that, rhythmic and steady. She's never been good at going rapidly, speeding through things. 

Maybe all the stress from Audrey II is getting to her, too.

“You want me to talk to him?”

She bites her lip and hesitates, just a little. “… Maybe.”

She didn't know how it would go when she said it. Didn't know if the conversation would ever take place, didn't know if it would go over well if it did. But the talk was a few days ago, and whatever they'd said to each other was clearly having SOME positive effect on the both of them. And as curious as Audrey is about the whole conversation the two had… it was private, she knew. It wasn't her conversation to be involved with, and so she’ll stay to herself.

The bandages haven't gone away, and she thinks Orin may be gaining a few more than she's ever noticed before (‘accident with the tools at work— you've seen how sharp some of those tools are’ he says, despite the fact that they both know those tools are the dullest instruments this side of the country.) Even still, Seymour seems happier. Still on edge, but happier. And hey, he and Orin seem to be growing closer together! Audrey has never been so proud of her boys. 

But regardless of all that, of all the concern and tears and uncomfortable conversations, there's good news, too; they hang out more! It's become a trend now, for the three of them to go to the cinema together and see the latest movies. Maybe go to Orin’s home afterwards and relax, just talk and enjoy basking in the others’ company for a while. And so when she sits with her hands on her knees between the two boys she loves more than anyone or anything else in the world, she stays silent about the telling cuts that show on both their arms as they reach for the popcorn. It's not her place to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading this chapter at the interlude between acts while seeing LSoH performed by a nearby high school and lemme tell you, I am LIVING bc these guys are fuckin GREAT and my already swelling love for Little Shop is even more rekindled now


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